Category Archives: progressive politics

An Open Letter to the President..

March 13, 2017musings, progressive politics, resistance, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

Dear President Trump,

I am not sure why I am writing you. I have a lot of concerns I’d like to share. I want you to know how afraid I am. How angry I am. I want you to know the things I care about and the things that matter to me – and to many, many other citizens in this nation you now lead. But I’m not sure why I’m writing you because I have had no indication that you listen to anyone other than whoever is flattering you and in the room at any given moment. I don’t trust your capacity to care about anything but yourself. I don’t trust in your ability to think in abstracts or to argue rationally from different points of view. But I’m writing you anyway.

I am writing like I am marching. And calling my senators and representatives. And demanding town hall meetings. Why am I doing this? Writing to you might not change anything, but all of us doing all these things together will. And because I think you and many who have been hired by the electorate have it all wrong. Being elected is not a sacred anointing. It is the collective body hiring a temp. You are not king or god or even patriarch. You are a flawed human being with a very large job to do and, frankly, you are doing it poorly.

The thing I am finding the most difficult to understand about you and about the GOP agenda in general is your obvious disregard for the health and wellbeing of the nation. Here are some questions I would really like an answer to:

How will reducing our access to healthcare make us better able to compete in the world market?

If you are going to privatize healthcare, why are you against raising the minimum wage to a living wage so that people have an outside chance of affording it?

How will privatizing education bring up the entire population, making us a better workforce and a better place to live, a better community, and a better able to innovate?

How will demonizing portions of the population bring us together as a nation? And how does that demonization reflect our values?

How does raping our environment protect our children, our food sources, our future? Is breathing clean air at all important to you? How about drinking uncontaminated water?

How is it that you only value the amazing gift of our public lands and national parks as unexploited business opportunities?

How is it that the forward movement of human rights and dignity, whose inception was the centerpiece of our Constitution and Bill of Rights, be refuted in favor of anti-Semitic, anti-people of color, anti-women, anti-LGBT, anti-disabled, anti-immigrant, anti-refugee factions that are a gross minority in this country? Why are you giving voice to hatred and division?

I want to know. Most of all I want to know how to stop you. I’m pretty sure you won’t tell me that but I’m pretty sure that I will. Me and millions of my friends. Because whether or not you to listen to me, the voting booth does. I only pray it is while we can still recognize ourselves.

Sincerely,

The Rev. Connie Tuttle

It’s So Bad I Have to Laugh

March 6, 2017musings, progressive politics, resistance, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

Today I want to thank Steven Colbert, Samantha Bee, Trevor Noah, Jon Stewart, Garrison Keeler, the entire cast of Saturday Night Live, editorial cartoonist Mike Luckovitch, and comics around the world who give us laughter in the face of tragedy.

Garrison Keillor’s Trumpian Interpretation Of Psalm 23 Is Spot-On Perfect

I am a news junkie. I am involved up to my eyeballs in the resistance – and that is exactly where I want to be and what I want to be doing. And it gets overwhelming, I sometimes get discouraged and wonder if my little bit matters. (It does! And so does Sally’s little bit and Chuck’s little bit and your little bit …and all our little bits together make a big ole’ strong movement of persistent, passionate, compassionate, warriors who are standing against walls and bans, misinformation and deregulation, and against Trump and his ilk’s basic inhumanity based on race or gender or nationality or religion or gender identity.

Watch: The Trump Song, a parody of The Village People’s YMCA

But let’s face it – we are taking on a lot and, by necessity, engaging on multiple fronts. The enormity of the work before us is daunting. However, we all get it: this is work that must be done! So we dig in and call and write and march and go door to door and donate our time and money to push back against the tide of greed and hate.

Pretty muchImage via Mike Luckovich AJC

Posted by The Other 98% on Thursday, December 1, 2016

I wake up in the morning and read the newest barbarism, the newest message of hate, the newest abomination done in our name, and instead of crying or raging or wanting to throw in the towel, I turn on Steven Colbert or SNL or find a clip on Facebook that let’s me laugh and groan at the absurdity of it all. Sometimes they fuels my anger (in a good way) and I am up for the day. Sometimes they give a release valve for my anger and I am able to be more effective. And sometimes they just let’s me know I am not alone, that others are calling out the disgrace, and that others see the absurdity of what is going on.

So thanks for the laughs. And thanks for sharing my horror. And thanks for sharing your strength of conviction. Because sometimes it is just so bad that I have to laugh.

I Thought I Was A Good Citizen

February 27, 2017feminism, musings, progressive politics, resistanceConnie Tuttle

The first time I voted I lived in California. It was 1972, during the Viet Nam War and Nixon was running against McGovern. I took my then toddler with me, dressed in a white leotard with a red zipper and a red, star-shaped pull. Over that she wore a red, white and blue striped skirt with the word ‘VOTE’ circling the circumference from waist to hem. I was just twenty and thrilled to be a part of the democratic process. Since then I have voted every time the polls opened.

I stayed informed. I marched for civil rights, women’s rights, against the death penalty. I gave money to causes I supported. Very occasionally I wrote letters to my representatives. I thought I was a good citizen. After the past three+ months I can now report that I was an under-involved citizen who assumed the democratic process, values, and structures could and would maintain themselves. I assumed that our courts and voting booths facilitated the ‘arc toward justice’ that Martin talked about. Since November 9^th I have learned otherwise.

We are living in different times. The future of our democracy and the future of our republic depends on me. And you. And you. And you. And you. It has always depended on us but I, at least, didn’t have any idea to what extent. I don’t believe I am overstating it to say we are living terrifying times. We cannot assume that our very ideals of freedom, human rights, inclusion, shared power, and political discourse are shared or valued so If those ideals are to continue to define and shape us as a nation it is up to us to make it so.

I am learning new ways to be a good citizen. Being informed is no longer enough. If I want to be a good citizen I must act on the information. What bills are coming before the state and federal legislatures? Where do I stand on them? Who represents me? How do I let them know? I have my state and national representatives’ and senators’ numbers programmed into my phone. Their email addresses are in my contacts. Their snail mail addresses are saved in a doc that I can print out on cardstock. (I use postcards instead of lettered mail because letters have to be vetted for ricin, etc. so postcards get to them more quickly). I demand town hall meetings and then show up. I attend state level committee meetings on issues I support or oppose. This is my new normal. I invite you to find and embrace your new normal.

People wonder if it makes a difference. All those small acts. All that time. The only things that will make a difference is that we actively participate in our democracy, without ceasing. We had become complacent and complacency is no longer an option. Not everyone has the time to go to meetings during work hours or that are held hours away but if you can, DO. Everyone can work to stay informed. Everyone can commit to vote. Everyone can spend 10-30 minutes a day making their voices heard. And none of us can afford not to be good citizens. The future of the republic depends on us.

Finding Your Rhythm

February 20, 2017everyday theology, musings, progressive politics, resistance, spiritual practice, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

Last week I, my sister, and my beloved Harry-the-dog went to the beach. Harry and I took some alone time on an isolated beach near Santa Rosa, Florida. When we reached the shore I let him off the leash and he pounded along the white sands before turning and leaping into the crystal green ocean. He swam out a few feet to catch a small wave that would push him gently back to shore. And then he would do it again. Over and over and over with unremitting joy. We spent the entire afternoon like this, the only exception when he chased shore birds keening overhead with his full-throated bark, tail lashing in delight. The beauty of the sand, the crystal ocean, the keening of birds, the hiss of waves, the warmth of the sun, the joy of my dog friend. It doesn’t get better than this.

But it could be gone too soon. The ocean polluted by plastic and toxic waste. The beaches overtaken by big-money developers paving paradise, the endangered species protected near the shore could become extinct, and only the wealthy could have access to our nation’s natural treasures – if they choose to leave them untouched, if oil rigs don’t malfunction and turn the pristine waters of the Gulf into yet another deadly slick.

These are but a few reasons I will take in all the goodness of my down time to energize my commitment to work for a better America and against the self-serving, irrational policies of the current administration.

If I should get tired of marching, I’ll remember Harry romping on the beach.

If I should get tired of making phone calls, writing letters, emails, and postcards, I will recall the public lands that are a part of our legacy as a nation.

If I should get tired of showing up at my representative’s offices to demand representation, I’ll plug into the energy of knowing who we can be, who we have tried to be, and refuse to let go.

I posted on facebook last week that I was a little tired and overwhelmed (already!!) and reminded myself and others of the importance of self-care. I am here to testify today that self-care renews us for the fight. It gives us a rhythm, like the ceaseless rhythm of the waves. The rhythm we need so that we can keep on keeping on for as long as it takes. This is not an either/or proposition. This is how we sustain our actions until we turn the tide. This is how we reset the buttons of our public discourse not only during this challenge to our very institutions of freedom, but for all the years to come. As citizens, we must be vigilant and involved on levels our generation has not seen.

So find your rhythm. Connect with your source. Prepare for the long-haul. We cannot afford to burn out.

For Those Who Are Afraid of Freedom

February 13, 2017musings, progressive politics, resistance, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

“We must be free not because we claim freedom, but because we practice it.” ― William Faulkner, Essays, Speeches & Public Letters

Freedom is scary. We always say we want it but I’m not so sure we do. Why? Because freedom takes hard work. It requires training and practice and commitment. Freedom challenges our most dearly held assumptions- sometimes about things we didn’t even know could be challenged. The most recent challenges are to our evolving understanding of gender identity, refugees, and differing faiths. How our republic responds to this stretching will be a tribute to our commitment to freedom or a disastrous erosion of our principles. We are sliding backward at an alarming rate.

Healthy freedom means you have to be a grown up and take responsibility for yourself, your community, your state, and nation, and finally, for the global human family. One must be brave to be free. Freedom is not for the timid even though a free society must protect the timid and guarantee their freedoms. We must be courageous enough to connect with people of different faiths, classes, races, religions or abilities and see us all as citizens. We must allow our assumptions of ‘the other’ to be challenged, and we must be open to change. Most of all, we need free flowing, correct information to function as a republic. And finally, we must enter the fray, be involved in our civic lives, and have pitched battles with those who think very differently from ourselves, all the while holding fast to the greater truth that we are one people.

And if I am being completely truthful, I must tell you that freedom is not safe. I bow to our fore brother, Benjamin Franklin, for this wisdom, who first said: “They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.” ― Benjamin Franklin, Memoirs of the life & writings of Benjamin Franklin

Freedom is the product of those of us who are willing to face our fears, who so believe in its principles that we are willing to risk its survival.

Authoritarianism, on the other hand, is the fall back for the faint at heart, who want easy answers, and personal safety. The seduction of authoritarianism is that it will provide those things for you, even if it is at the expense of others. If you are afraid of freedom, I beg you to find your courage. Risk for what is good and right. Find cohorts who are committing to freedom in the face of fear.

The current administration wants us to be afraid, they want to control information, justice, and even our personal lives. They can do that if we let our fear control us. It is okay to be afraid but we cannot let fear rule us if we are to be the torchbearers of freedom.

Here’s What We Can’t Do

February 9, 2017everyday theology, musings, progressive politics, resistance, spiritual practice, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

Do you, like me, wake up every morning wondering what fresh new hell has occurred while you were asleep? Silencing women. Confirming the unqualified and the racist to two important positions in government. Nudging us to the brink of nuclear war. Climbing in bed with Putin. Refuting the supremacy of law. The catalogue is longer than I have either the time or interest to list. Suffice it to say that in a short three weeks we have been subjected to seemingly unending ‘series of unfortunate events’.

Many of us are calling our senators and representatives. Keep it up.

Many of us are writing letters, postcards, and emails. Don’t stop.

Many of us are going to town hall meetings. Show up. Speak up.

Many of us keep marching. Rest those pups and keep on walking.

Many of us are meeting together, making connections, and multiplying our energy. Keep on keeping on.

There are times when we may become overwhelmed, fearful, or exhausted but we can’t lose hope or give up.

We can’t give up because:

we believe that our beauty and power are expressed in many ways

we believe in sharing power and in each one having a voice

we stand with those who cannot stand for themselves

we speak for those with no voice

we care about the powerless, the homeless, the ill, the impoverished, the marginalized

we care about our planet and its future

all those things are worth standing for whether or not we prevail

There is no failure when we live into what we believe.

The Power of Small Acts of Resistance

February 2, 2017musings, progressive politics, resistance, spiritual practice, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

In Chaos Theory there is something called ‘the butterfly effect’. The most popular example is of a monsoon in China caused a butterfly flapping its wings in New Mexico. It may take a very long time, but the connection is real. If the butterfly had not flapped its wings at just the right point in space/time, the hurricane would not have happened.

Here’s our takeaway: Small acts make a big difference.

Do you think your phone call to a Senator’s or Representative’s office doesn’t make a difference? Think again. What will a postcard matter? More than we can imagine. Showing up at a town hall meeting? Ten thousand butterfly wings flutter.

We are not corporations. We are not the power elite. We are teachers, preachers, plumbers, administrative assistants, veterans and veterinarians, dog-walkers and retirees, hair dressers and waitresses. We are moms and dads, grandparents, sisters and brothers. Our individual and collective actions, however small, will change the climate in Washington.

So flap away my fellow butterflies.

We’ve Only Just Begun

January 23, 2017feminism, progressive politics, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

I look back at my last post and wonder at how afraid I was – to the point of saying I was willing to die, if necessary. I thought we might be confronted by the ugliness and/or violence of the misogynistic, nationalistic, neo-Nazi, right. I was willing to take the risk. The night before the march there were riots in the streets of the capitol and hundreds arrested. I expected the police to be on edge. They probably were.

Today I am here to report that 500,000 strong came together in ways I have not seen before. Women’s participation and leadership shaped an atmosphere and embodied a kind of strength that is contrary to the traditional masculine understanding of power. And we shone. Proud. Powerful. Fun. Fabulous. Making all the connections between race and class, immigrants, nationalities, people with disabilities, sexualities, genders, gender-expressions, children, elders, infants, and the planet! This is what we do so well – we see ourselves linked and bonded to one another and to the earth and the sky and the oceans.

We chanted

“This is what democracy looks like!”

The women shouted “My body, my choice!” and the men responded “her body, her choice!”

And “immigrants are welcome here” and “We’re here, we’re queer and we will not be afraid”

The signs! The AMAZING, creative signs (all correctly spelled):

“the rise of the woman is the rise of the nation”

“I march because a man once told me my opinions about politics were an example of ‘why women should stay in the kitchen’ all the other men in the room laughed. Am I still funny now?”

“Fight like a girl”

“Impeach Putin’s pussy-grabbing, tiny fingered, puppet”

“when they go low, we go high” (thanks Michelle)

“YUGE mistake”

“this election was brought to you by the KGB”

“a woman’s place is in the revolution”

“let us not grow weary”

“make America Kind again” and “make America Care again”

“hope not fear”

“they buried us but they didn’t know we’re seeds”

“there is no planet B”

“black trans lives matter”

“amnesty for the dreamers”

“women know how to clean, let’s start with your Cabinet”

“make America think again”

“I will not be silent”

“rapist in chief”

“pussies unite”

“respect our existence or expect resistance”

“What do we want? Evidence based science! When do we want it? After peer review!”

“the power of the people is stronger than people in power” .

We embody the hope, the anger, the passion, and the commitment of women and men across our nation and around the world, from Antarctica to Zimbabwe. We will rise up, engage, work from within and without to take back the heart of our country. We will define who we are as a nation – not the one painted by neo-Nazi, misogynist, racist, classist, ‘alternative fact’ bullshit artists.

What can we know now that we may not have realized before? That our story is quite different from the one fabricated by Trump and his hacks who believe his election is the end of the story. It is not. We are.

We will write about the time to come because we are the ones who will make it happen.We will claim our flawed fore-bearers and our own imperfections while following a shared vision of what is possible. We will work against racism, sexism, homophobia, ageism, climate change, and for disability rights, trans-rights, healthcare, equal pay and all things that contribute to the well-being of each one. We will work to recapture the heart of our nation and tell tales of all those who champion truth, freedom, inclusion, and justice. We must do the work and be the change so we can teach those who come after us the art of dragon-slaying.

Once upon a time…

Those Damn Angels

December 29, 2016A Gracious Heresy, Circle of Grace, everyday theology, progressive christianity, progressive politicsConnie Tuttle

The electoral college voted on December 20^th and something in me died.

Okay, maybe not died, but broke, shifted, was mangled.

Donald Trump will be our next president.

Some part of me, some subconscious part, some kid part believed we were better than that and clung to unreasonable hope. I really didn’t think I was hopeful. I really thought I accepted the outcome of the election. I really had not.

And I spiraled into grief and hopelessness and fear…

What is going to happen now? We will have a president with YUGE ethical challenges, hair trigger reactions to perceived slights, surrounded by right wing extremists, with a vision of our nation that is antithetical to everything I know and believe.

What are we going to do? How are we going to face the threat to this nation and to our own humanity? I am frightened. Very frightened.

And it came to pass that the days went by and the time came to read the Christmas story. And the angels appeared and said, “Fear not.” “Don’t be Afraid”. In the midst of poverty and oppression, when a people could imagine no way out, these freaking angels said, “Don’t be afraid”.

Screw that.

Here’s the thing. They were right. They are right. Whenever someone reminds or encourages to ‘not be afraid’ take it in. Listen. Breathe into it. It doesn’t mean that there aren’t things to be afraid of. There are. Many, many things. But we must take the challenge to heart.

Because fear paralyzes. Fear defeats us before our enemies fire a shot across the bow.

So, Fear Not. Use the scrambled energy within to stand and speak and work and move. There is more that needs to be challenged, checked, defeated, engaged than ever in our lifetime. We cannot let fear defeat us before the fight is even begun.

We Need A Little Christmas…

December 22, 2016A Gracious Heresy, Circle of Grace, everyday theology, LGBT theology, musings, progressive christianity, progressive politics, UncategorizedConnie Tuttle

Not here we said.

Never here.

But it is here

and it is now.

Wealth so repulsive, unethical, self-serving

Built on the backs of the hungry, the hurting, the oppressed,

the left out and left behind.

Power so arrogant as to despise kindness and human dignity.

We need a little Christmas right this very minute

We need a vision of the beauty in creation

the ethic of vulnerability

the power of love.

We need a story that emerges in the midst of

an oppressive state

corrupt power

religious factions.

We need a story of perseverance

Right over might

Love over hate

Goodness over evil

Truth over lies.

America is built on ideas that are important to hold on to and that many have forgotten. We are built on ideas that require a strong commitment to diversity, to a free press and undiluted truth. Assumed in our constitution, in all our founding documents is the idea that we will remain in dialogue. That respect for one another grounds us in a way of being. That relationship is necessary and disagreement is always in context of relationship. The concept of the ‘loyal opposition’ assumes we all seek the greater good for the nation.

We have lost that relationship. Lost it because, in no small part, the right is now so radicalized (see: Tea Party, white supremacists) that finding ‘a third way’ is no longer the goal. All or nothing is the goal. It has rent us in two.

So when I, as a pastor, say ‘we need a little Christmas’ I mean we need to remember the source of our faith journey. It begins in poverty, it values the outsider (moral, cultural, racial, etc) and it overcomes oppression, hate, and fear with love. Our story invites us to a kind of love that infuses a deep sense of self worth, the courage to resist, and the willingness to sacrifice.

Now the rubber meets the road. We must live into ideas greater than ourselves and our own self-interest. For my fellow Christians, this season I urge us to embrace our story of hope, power, and promise. And let us honor faith traditions other than our own who journey beside us as they uniquely express the love of God.

The story of this nation isn’t over.

The story of the incarnation isn’t over.

It is just beginning.

Our hope is being born in the muck,

in the stench of poverty

in the belly of the oppressive beast.

We must allow hope to be born in us

with power and passion

for the facing of this hour.